


Independence Day

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Series: Memorial Day, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While still recovering from a gunshot wound, Blair must also deal with some serious personal issues.<br/>This story is a sequel to Memorial Demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Independence Day

## Independence Day

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Title: Independence Day  
Author: Grey  
Email: Grey853@aol.com  
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sex  
Pairing: J/B 

Status: New/complete  
Date: July 4, 1998  
Series/Sequel: Third in the Memorial Day series Archive: Yes, or link to my site  
Archive email: Grey853@aol.com 

Website: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimer: Not mine, but they're fun to borrow. 

Summary: Third in the "Memorial Day" series. While still recovering from a gunshot wound, Blair must also deal with some serious personal issues. 

Notes: 

1-This story takes place near and around the Fourth of July, just five weeks after Blair's gun shot wound from "Memorial Day". This story also deals with the disturbing issue of domestic violence and our justice system's failure to protect women and children in our society because of out-dated and ineffectual laws and procedures. You really should read "Memorial Day" and "Memorial Demons" if you want to get the full impact of this story. 

2-Sentinel Too did not happen in this story universe which takes place after "Night Shift". 

Independence Day  
by Grey 

"Okay, Chief. Are you going to eat that or wait until it reaches some altered state of being before you bother?" 

"What?" Blair raised his head, his eyes unfocused as he stared across the table. He ran a slow hand over his bearded cheek before combing fingers through unruly curls. Dreamy and distant, he muttered, "I'm sorry. What did you say? I wasn't listening?" 

"No kidding. Your spaghetti's cold, Chief. You want me to warm it up or would you like something else?" Jim Ellison waited for an answer, but really wanted to scream out in frustration. Worry kept him quiet. 

"No, really, I'm not very hungry, man. Sorry." His words thick, Blair rose to go to the couch, but stopped when he heard the snap of orders. 

"Sit down, Chief." 

"What?" 

"I said sit back down. You haven't eaten all day. Now, you can either eat what you have in front of you or eat something else, but this is starting to get old." 

"Look, I'm too tired to fight, Jim. Just wrap it up or something. I'll eat later." 

Jim's concern grew stronger as he saw such little reaction from his friend. His old partner would've told him to back off long before now. This Blair just shrugged, averted his eyes, his shoulders sagging in a permanent stoop. Something had to change before his spirit faded completely. 

"Blair, I can't force you to eat, but this has been going on too long. How much weight have you lost in the last five weeks, twenty pounds? That's too much. It's dangerous and you know it. You turning into a ghost here." 

"Bad choice of words, Jim." 

"I mean it, Chief. I hate seeing you like this." 

Shaking his head, the younger man stood and walked over to the sofa, his jeans drooping down across bony hips. "I'm just not hungry, man. It's not the food." 

"I know that. I think we both know the problem." 

"Yeah? What's that?" 

Moving to straddle the armrest, Jim settled close to his best friend. "Chief, you're still hurting from being shot. I understand that. But this is something more. I think it's time we did something about it." 

"We? You planning on coming to the shrink's office with me? Yeah, right. Like that's going to ever happen. What you mean is you think I need to see somebody because I'm depressed. We've had this discussion before, Jim. Just forget it." 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Jim formed his words carefully. "Blair, you said yourself you've been in and out of therapy since you wore diapers, so what's the problem? Why is this different? I mean, my god, you almost died. Nobody's going to fault you for needing a little help dealing with that." 

Shaking a stubborn head, Blair crossed his arms before he spoke. "I don't need anybody for this, Jim. I'm fine." 

"You're not fine, Chief." 

"Well, I will be fine just as soon as I get my strength back and get back to some kind of routine. The doctor said I might be able to return to work at the end of next week after the holiday." 

"How do you expect to get any strength if you don't eat and don't sleep? You think I can't hear you spinning every night before you wake up screaming? Do you think I don't know that no food's been touched all day by the time I get back from the station? You're not fine, Chief. You need some help on this." 

"God, you're such a fucking cop sometimes, Jim. What do you do, count the bread slices and eggs before you leave in the morning? Shit." 

Sliding from the armrest to the seat next to his guide, Jim scooted closer, putting his arm around his shoulders. The younger man resisted the comfort and sat rigid without yielding. "I am a cop, Chief, a cop who misses his partner." Jim leaned over and tried to nuzzle against Blair's neck only to have strong hands push him away. 

"Stop it. I'm not in the mood, Jim. I hate the way you do that whenever we're fighting." 

"We're not fighting, Chief." 

"We're not? Sure as hell could've fooled me, man." 

Jim settled back hard against the couch, sighing and shaking his head. "I love you, Blair. I'm just worried." 

The grad student's body fell forward, his elbows on his knees, his face resting in his palms. "I know that, Jim. I love you, too, but I'm just so tired of you being worried all the time. Why can't you just leave me alone for a little while? I swear I'll be okay if you'll just let me handle it." 

Jim's voice took on a soothing, warm calmness as he spoke quietly. "Blair, remember when you insisted I go see my father?" 

"Yeah." 

"Remember how I said I could handle it all by myself?" 

"Yeah? I remember." 

"Well, I didn't handle it very well, did I, not well at all. You were there for me. You've been there for me every time I've fucked up and tried to do things the old Jim way." 

"Old Jim way?" 

"Yeah, the way I dealt with problems before I finally got it through my thick skull that I wasn't alone anymore. You've made me stop pretending things were fine when they weren't. I learned that from you, Chief." 

"Really?" 

"Really. Ever hear the saying that you teach what you most need to learn? Well I think it applies to you in this case." 

"Man, you're so wrong." 

"I don't think so. The tables are turned. You need a little help here. If I can't do it for you, I'd like to think you're willing to find someone who can." Reaching out a hand, Jim rubbed along Blair's spine, long even strokes turning into circles. Short breaths evened out, as he continued the massage against his partner's tight muscles. Slowly, knots relaxed and the younger man shifted to cuddle against Jim's chest. Strong arms held him tight while he spoke very softly. 

"I'm sorry about all this, man. It's just been really hard lately. I don't know why exactly. It's not like I haven't been shot or hurt before." 

"But this was different, Chief." 

"I know. But, it's not just about how close I came to dying, Jim." 

Petting the top of his love's head, Jim whispered. "What? What else is it, baby?" 

"It's this?" 

"This what?" 

"This thing between us. It scares me, Jim." 

An icy wave raced through him, but he held on tight. "Why, Blair? Why does being in love with me scare you so much?" 

"I don't know. I really don't. I do love you, but being with you as more than a friend, more than a guide, terrifies me." 

"Well, maybe we should find out why that is, Chief." 

"We?" 

"Yeah, babe, we." 

* * *

Stacks of unfinished folders piled his desk in organized bundles, a monument to his beleaguered position . Jim could never quite figure out why the computer age with it's databases and disk space didn't reduce the paperwork, but instead added to it. Sighing, he sat pushing his way through the file numbers to finish up the Patterson case. If nothing else, it would distract him from thinking about his afternoon appointment with Dr. Chandler and Blair. 

"Hey, Jim. You busy, mate?" Megan Connor stood by the desk toying with the edge of a folder. 

"Not with anything that can't wait. You need something?" 

"No, just wanted to see if you'd decided to come to my first American Independence Day barbie tomorrow." 

Jim sat back, his one hand at his mouth, the other across his chest. "You mean a barbecue." 

"Yeah. A barbie." 

Chuckling at the image of Barbie and Ken on a grill, Jim shook his head. 

"Brown called it that. What's so funny?" 

"Not a thing." 

"Well then, have you decided? The captain and some others who aren't on duty are coming over to my new place. I thought maybe Sandy and you might be up to a little outing now that he's better." Seeing Jim look away suddenly, she leaned in. "Sandy is doing better, right, Jim?" 

"Yeah, of course, he is." Even to his own ears his voice sounded flat and unconvincing. To sharp-eared Connor, he didn't stand a chance. 

"Jim, when I stopped by the other day, he still looked a bit on the rough, but he said he was fine. Was it just a show for the Aussie?" 

"Probably a little, yeah." Jim stared at the paperweight turning in his hand as he tried to focus on the conversation and not the hurt gnawing at his gut. 

Sighing, Megan shook her head. "He could've been on a stage, our Sandy." She took a deep breath and stood up straight, thin shoulders thrown back. "Well, what can I do then?" 

"I appreciate your concern, Connor, but there's nothing much to do except try to be patient." 

"Oh dear. Poor Sandy." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Patience and Ellison in the same sentence? Sandy does have a bit of trouble then." The lightness in her voice turned serious as she leaned in. "Just let me know if I can help, Jim. I like our Sandy. He's a keeper." 

Nodding with a sad smile, Jim agreed. "Yeah, Connor, he is." Before he could say anything else the boom of his captain's voice interrupted. 

"Jim, could I see you my office for a minute?" The tense tone, but polite request sent up immediate flags for the detective. Megan walked away after a short slap to his shoulder. 

"Yeah, Captain, what's up?" 

"In my office, Jim. Please." 

Uneasily, Jim walked past his superior and waited until Simon shut the door. "What's going on, Simon?" 

"How's the kid doing?" 

"You didn't call me in here to ask me that. What's going on?" 

Nervously, Simon put two cups on his desk. "Coffee?" 

"No, but a straight answer would be nice." 

Nodding, Simon didn't bother to pour his drink, but sat down, turned and stared directly at his best detective while he spoke. "Jim, I don't want you going crazy when I tell you this, but the judge released Geary on bail this morning." 

A lightning strike split his heart as blood flamed through him, boiling to red steam, each thought a ruptured blister. "What? No way, Simon. No fucking way. The man shot my partner." 

"I know that, Jim." 

"Then what the hell's going on? The man opens fire in a crowded public park trying to kill his wife and children, he shoots my partner, and he's out on fucking bail? You can't be serious." 

"Settle down, Jim. I went to the DA myself on this one, but there was nothing we could do. Bail was set and paid. He's out until the trial." 

"Shit. I can't fucking believe this. That could be months." 

"I understand how you feel, Jim, but..." 

"Understand how I feel? Please, Simon, don't." 

"Don't what?" 

Rage raced through his body, the veins pounding up his neck into his temples. "Don't imagine you understand, Simon, not until you watch someone you love almost bleed to death in your arms. Not until you rock him at night because he still wakes up screaming, dripping in his own sweat, dry heaving in a panic. Not until you watch him waste away in front of your eyes too miserable to eat or smile or just keep going. And now you're telling me the man responsible is walking around free to do it again? Don't tell me you can possibly understand. You can't." 

The softness of the normally gruff voice jarred him. "Jim, I'm not your enemy here." 

Sinking into the chair near the desk, Jim sat in shock. How could he explain to Blair what he couldn't figure out himself? How could the courts set a man like that free? 

"Jim?" 

"I'm sorry, Simon. I just don't get this." 

"How about that coffee now?" A hand rested on his shoulder, accenting the question. 

"Sure." As Simon filled the mugs, Jim dropped his head to his hands, rubbing at the ache throbbing in his temples. He had no idea how he could tell Blair. The pounding vibrated louder, sending sharp stabs into his forehead. A nudge at his shoulder brought him back to the present. 

"Simon, tell me what I'm supposed to tell Sandburg about this." 

"According to the judge and the lawyers, Geary doesn't have but one item on his record. That was the domestic that got him out of the house in the first place and he was drunk at the time of the shooting. The lawyer argued that Blair's getting shot was accidental, not intentional and that Geary's trying to straighten up. The judge figured it more as a domestic problem rather than criminal and lowered bail." 

"Shit." 

"That's not the worst part." 

"What else?" 

"Cindy got a second mortgage on their house to make bail and he's back living with her and the kids." 

Jim shoved himself back in the chair, his mouth open, shaking his head. "Let me get this straight. My partner risks his life to save this woman and she goes right back to the man who tried to kill her? It's crazy." 

"We see this all the time, Jim. You know that. Battered spouse syndrome. The judge did mandate counseling and assigned social workers to the case. Says it's important to keep the family unit together if at all possible. Says if anything else happens, Cindy could lose the children." 

"Anything else and she could be dead." 

"Yeah. I know that. But our hands are pretty much tied on this one." Simon drank his coffee, his dark face solemn and grim. After a few moments more of silence, the captain spoke quietly. "What are you going to tell Blair?" 

His head hanging in a shadow of misery, the sentinel closed his eyes. "I don't even have a clue." 

* * *

Standing outside the doorway, Jim listened to the tapping of keys, a sound he hadn't heard at home since the shooting. He took a deep breath to steel himself before he unlocked the door. 

A puzzled partner looked up and took off his glasses. "Hey, Jim. What are you doing home? I thought I was supposed to meet you downtown around three." Clean-shaven and groomed, a paler face stared his way. Dark circles shadowed the intense blue eyes. 

"We need to talk before we go see Dr. Chandler." 

"Shit, Jim. You're scaring me here. What's going on?" Blair put down his glasses and saved his text while he spoke. 

Jim walked to stand by the window and crossed his arms, trying to find the right words that evaded him all the way back to the loft. Finally he decided on directness. "Geary's out on bail." 

"What? You're joking, right?" 

"No, Chief, I'm not. Until the trial he's free. He's still suspended from the force, but he's back living with Cindy and the kids." 

Instead of an explosion, Jim saw containment. Slowly, right before his eyes, his partner shut down. Eyes blinked, hands folded, and he turned away to resume working. Without speaking, he pushed back his hair and started typing where he left off. 

"Chief, come on. Tell me what you're thinking here." 

"There's nothing to say, man. Cindy makes her own decisions." 

"Even if they're bad ones?" 

"Jim, I'm not going to discuss this right now. We've got a few hours before the appointment. You going back to the station or what? I really want to finish up these notes before then if that's okay with you." 

Stepping to stand behind his guide, Jim registered little change in his friend's vitals. Totally focused on the page, Blair tuned him out. 

"Blair, we need to talk about this." 

"Go back to work, Jim. I'll see you later." 

"Chief?" 

"Later, Jim." 

"Shit, Chief. You need to talk about this." 

"You need to talk about it, Jim. Save it for Chandler. This is the first day my mind's been clear enough to work since the shooting. I don't want to stop and lose it now." Intent on the screen, the young man ignored Jim's touch to his shoulder, no flinch, no acknowledgment at all. 

Jim shook his head, walked to the door, and whispered, "Be there, Chief, or I'll come and get you myself." 

Blair raised his head, his eyes narrowed in anger. "Don't threaten me, Jim. You want to see a reaction? Tell me what to do again and see what happens." 

"I'm not threatening you, Chief. I love you." 

"Go to work, Jim. I'm fine." Lowering his head back to his task, Blair's voice trembled slightly, forcing the words to wobble through the air. "Leave me alone, man. I need to finish this. Just leave. Please." 

"You know where to find me, Blair. I'll see you this afternoon." His arm a tremendous weight, Jim opened the door. Stepping through and closing it behind him, he listened as key strokes sounded like thunder. 

* * *

"It looks like Mr. Sandburg is running a little late." A middle-aged man, dark hair, brown eyes, average features glanced down at his watch. He didn't look the least bit dangerous, but Jim knew better. 

"Did you want to go ahead and start without him, Jim? When I spoke to you this morning, I got the definite impression that you had some personal concerns you wanted to discuss." 

Shifting uneasily, Jim nodded. "Okay, we could do that, Doc. Blair tends to run late sometimes, but he promised he'd be here." 

"Why don't you set up the situation with a bit more detail than you mentioned. I know from our sessions before that he's now your unofficial partner. I also know from what you've told me that he's having some problems after the shooting, when was it, five weeks ago?" 

"Yeah. It was the Memorial Day picnic." 

Dr. Chandler's head went back as the memory fell into place. "Oh, yes. I heard about that. Weren't you admitted to the hospital yourself for a short period?" 

"Yes. We're not sure what happened." Jim averted his eyes as he deliberately lied to his doctor. Revelation of the sentinel-guide relationship would have to wait for a better time. 

"But you're okay now?" 

"Except for being worried about Blair, yeah. He's not sleeping or eating and he's not getting any better." 

The doctor templed his hands together in front of his face and swiveled his chair as he spoke. "He lives with you, right?" 

"Yes. He needed someone to take care of him." The words came out defensive. 

"But it was my understanding that he lived with you even before the incident. I need you to be honest with me here, Jim, if we're going to work through these things. What exactly is your relationship with Blair outside the station?" 

"Like I said, he's my partner." 

"Your partner? But he's not a cop." 

"He's still my partner." Pausing, swallowing hard, Jim found it difficult to say the words. "I love him." 

"And he knows this?" A brief nod answered. "And how does he feel about you? Does he reciprocate these feelings?" 

"He says so, but he also says it scares him." 

Wetting his lips, as if gauging the next question carefully. "Who else knows about this relationship, Jim? Are you out at the station?" 

"No. My captain knows. A few others. Some people might speculate, but for now it's pretty much don't ask, don't tell. You know what it's like for a gay cop, doctor." 

"Times are changing." 

"Not that much, at least not yet. I'm not going to deny my relationship, but I'm not advertising either." 

"Okay, I can understand that. So, has this been going on since the beginning?" 

"No. It started after the shooting." 

The doctor stopped moving and leaned forward. "Are you saying that you two weren't a couple until after his recent trauma?" 

"Right. I almost lost him. I didn't want to risk him never knowing." 

Pursing his lips, as if trying to solve a hard problem, the doctor spoke quietly. "So, what you're saying is that right after he's been shot, you tell him you're in love with him?" 

"I know it was really bad timing, but a near-death experience changes a guy's perspective." 

The doctor smiled as he nodded. "I can imagine. I've heard a lot of cops say that." Turning more serious, his tone deepened. "And you say that scares him?" 

"Yeah, but he doesn't know why. He finds it really hard to think anyone could love him." 

"Does he? If that's the case, I'll talk to him about that issue later. But, Jim you have to realize that considering the circumstances for Blair, your revelation must have been pretty overwhelming." 

"I know. My timing sucked. But, doctor, there was no way after what happened that I could just not say anything. Even if Blair rejected me, I had to tell him how I feel." 

"So, you'd had these feelings for awhile then? 

"Yes, but you have to understand, I wasn't sure how Blair would react. We're best friends, but this was a different arena. He's always just dated women, a lot of women. He has a problem with commitment." 

"Again, I suppose that's another issue I need to talk to him about if he wants to discuss it. But right now, I need to know what you expect out of these sessions." 

Jim edged forward in the chair. "I want to know what I need to do to help him feel better. You don't know Blair. I mean, he's the greatest person I've ever met, positive and full of energy. Now, he's just so sad all the time. It hurts to see him like that. I want to know what I can do to make it better." 

"Well, Jim, I hate to tell you what you probably already know." 

"What's that?" 

"You've got a hardest part for a take-charge kind of person like yourself." 

"And that is?" 

"Letting Blair do it himself." 

Sitting back, hand to his mouth, Jim frowned. "I was afraid you were going to say that." 

A knock came just as the door opened and Blair poked in his head. "Afraid you'd say what?" 

"Chief, where've you been?" 

"Sorry. The car wouldn't start again. I promised I'd come, Jim. I wouldn't back out on you like that." 

"I know. I was just worried." Jim raised a hand and motioned toward the man behind the desk. "This is Dr. Chandler, Blair. We were just talking." 

"I'll bet." Blair sat down heavily in the seat next to Jim's. "Now, what exactly were you saying before I got here, man?" 

"Mr. Sandburg, may I call you Blair?" 

"That's fine." Jim took in the anxious fidgeting and wanted to reach out, restraining himself only at the last minute. 

"So, Blair, Jim was just giving me some background on the situation." 

"Situation, huh?" The younger man did a quick sidelong glance and asked, "Want to fill me in?" 

"Chief, don't be pissed. I was just telling him about the shooting and how you've been doing since." 

Chewing on his lip, Blair remained silent and unfocused. "Blair, would you like to give me your version of what's going on and why you're here?" 

"Jim's the cop, man, not me. I'm sure he's stated the facts pretty clearly." 

"Which are?" 

"That I got shot and now I'm not getting back on track fast enough to suit him." 

"I've never said that, Chief." Jim moved closer, but stopped as he saw Blair pull away. 

"You didn't have to, man. You watch me all the time, checking me out, always trying to run my life." 

"It's not like that." 

"Jim, I know you mean well. I do. But it's really too much sometimes. I just need some time and a little space, you know?" 

"So, you think Jim's crowding you?" 

"Yeah." Meekly he glanced over at Jim. "I'm sorry, man. I know it's that hyper protective mode, but I have to do this on my own." 

"Well, there's your second vote, Doc." Jim sat back and crossed his arms. 

"What the hell are you talking about, Jim?" 

"Jim and I were just talking before you came in about his control issue." 

A very small grin came to Blair's face as he sneaked a peek over at his pouting partner. "Sorry, man, but it's so true." 

Warmed by the first inkling of humor in weeks, Jim smiled back. "I hear you, Chief. I'll work on it." 

The doctor's voice interrupted the quiet moment between them. "So, Blair, does Jim have reason to worry about you? How are you doing since the shooting?" 

Nervously pushing back the hair from his face, Blair stared blankly at a small string near the knee on the seam of his jeans. "I'm doing okay, I guess. I mean, considering I had a bullet tear open my gut not too long ago, I think I'm doing fine." 

"Fine? Define fine, Blair." 

"You know." 

"No, tell me. Are you sleeping? Eating? Feel able to cope with everyday things like grooming and leaving the apartment?" 

"Sure. I do all that." 

"Chief?" 

"Jim, I do believe the man was talking to me." 

"That's fine, but what's the point of being here if you aren't honest? Save the obfuscations for the rest of the world, Chief. He can't help you if you don't tell him what's really going on." 

"Oh, that's great, Jim. Call me a liar." Blair started to get up, but stopped as Dr. Chandler spoke. 

"He's right, Jim. This is his time." 

Jim held up both hands in a move of surrender. "Okay, Chief. I'm sorry. I was just think it's pretty much a waste of time here if we don't say what's really going on." 

"Oh, yeah, man, you're so good at being honest." 

"What's that supposed to mean, Chief?" 

"Jim, why didn't you tell me that you were admitted to the hospital when I got shot?" 

"I told you." Jim sat far back in the chair, trying to increase distance, suddenly on the defensive. 

"Yeah, two weeks later after Simon told me and I had to ask you about it." 

"Chief, I was a little busy at the time. You were just out of the hospital, remember?" 

"Like I could forget? No, it's just that why are there two sets of rules, one for you and one for me?" 

Jim glanced over at the doctor searching for a quick backup, but didn't find one. "Jim, I think that's a good question. Maybe you should answer him." 

"Okay, Chief. I'll admit I was wrong. I should've told you, but I didn't want to worry you." 

"So it's okay for you to bend the truth, but not me?" 

"No, it's not. A sin of omission is still a lie, Chief I'm sorry." Jim stopped for a moment and took in the agitated state of his partner. The flushed cheeks and racing heart beat worried him. "Are you okay, Blair?" 

"No, I'm not. But you already know that, Jim. I'm tired of this whole thing. I want my life back and it's like every time I turn around something slams me down." 

"Like what, Chief?" 

Blair settled back into the chair, breathing hard and gripping the wooden arms. "Last night when you agreed to come here, that meant a lot to me, Jim. It did. Last night I still didn't sleep great, but it was better. I got up this morning determined to try harder at this, to try to figure out what I was feeling about you and this whole relationship thing." 

"And did you figure anything out?" 

"Yeah, I figured out I don't want to lose you by doing what I usually do." 

Jim leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. He watched as Blair struggled to control the panic that sapped his strength. "What is it you usually do, Chief?" 

"You know." 

"I want you to tell me." 

"I fuck up. I go along just fine and when it gets too good, I click off. I start dating other people, sometimes even at the same time. You've seen me do it too many times not to know that." 

"And are you planning to do that to me, Chief?" 

Blair rubbed the heel of his right hand against his forehead. "I never plan to do it, Jim. It just happens." 

"It didn't just happen with Maya." 

"But Maya left me." 

"But if she'd stayed, you wouldn't have cheated on her, Blair, because you loved her." 

Holding out both hands, palms up, Blair shook his head. "We'll never know that." 

"I know that. When you love someone, you're the most loyal person I've ever seen. You're not going to fuck this up, Chief." 

"I wish I had as much faith as you do about it. It's just that when I see good people making the same stupid, self-destructive mistakes all over, it's a little hard to believe, especially with my history." 

The doctor interrupted and asked, "Who are you taking about, Blair? Who keeps making those mistakes?" 

"Jim knows, don't you, Jim?" 

"Yeah, I think so. You're talking about Cindy, right?" 

"You're a cop, Jim. You know that once you get a pattern of behavior going, it's really hard to break." 

"Chief, how can you compare yourself to a battered woman? You're not a codependent person." 

"Sure I am. I depend on you more than I want to." 

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" 

"Jim, you need to calm down." The doctor sat up straighter behind his desk as he listened to the volume increase of the larger man's voice. 

"I am calm, I just want to know what the fuck you're talking about, Chief. You think I'm abusive?" 

"I didn't say that, Jim. I said I don't like needing you so much." 

Confused, Jim scrubbed his eyes, trying to see and understand the man sitting across from him more clearly. "I don't understand this. We need each other, Chief. Why is that a bad thing? It's been you from the beginning trying to get me to depend on and to trust you and now you're saying you don't want that?" 

"I didn't say that either. Jim, you're not hearing me. I do love you, and that scares me because I've never really needed anyone before. I've always been pretty much free to come and go as I please." 

"Yeah, but that gypsy thing gets old, Chief." Still puzzled, Jim tilted his head and studied his partner a little harder. "Okay, so what you're saying is that you think I've trapped you and you want to go free?" 

"Jesus, Jim." 

"What?" 

"I didn't say you did anything wrong, man. It's me, not you. Don't you get that? I'm just afraid that one day you're going to wake up and think that you got the short end of the deal." 

"That's never going to happen." 

"It could, but what I'm most afraid of is that I'm going to see it coming and take off before you get a chance to get rid of me. I can't stand the thought that I could hurt you like that." 

"What have I ever done that would make you think that would ever happen, Chief? I just don't get this at all." 

"You're right. You don't get it, Jim. This isn't really about anything you've done." 

"Then what is it about, Chief?" His voice strained, growing louder and more tense. Blair pulled back further in his chair. 

Dr. Chandler stood up and moved to the front of his desk. "Jim. Blair. I think maybe we should have individual sessions for awhile first and then work up to a partner session later. What do you think about that as an option?" 

Blair held onto the arms of the chair, the energy reserves exhausted by tension and revelation. "I'm sorry, man. but, yeah, I think I'd be more comfortable doing this alone, Jim. I mean, I thought it would be better this way, but it's not. I just can't talk about this knowing you're going to hear everything I say and take it so personally." 

"Personally? Why the hell should I take it personally, Chief? I love you. I want to share my whole life with you and you're afraid of me? I don't get that." 

Hanging his head as he shook the dark curls, Blair voice came out in a hush. "I'm not afraid of you, Jim. I'm afraid of disappointing you. I couldn't handle losing you and I'm terrified that's going to happen once you realize the truth." 

Dr. Chandler remained absolutely still as Jim kneeled in front of his best friend. "Chief, the only truth you need to know right now is that I'm never going to leave you. Never." 

Blair rested his forehead on the top of Jim's shoulder, his dark hair draping down across his sentinel's back. His breathing slow and ragged, the younger man whispered, "I'm just so tired, Jim. Tired of fighting, tired of being scared all the time. Just tired." 

Petting the top of his guide's head, Jim spoke just as softly. "I know, Chief. I know." 

After a long period of silence, Dr. Chandler voice came from behind him. "Take him home, Jim. Let him rest. We need to talk about this later." 

Rising slowly, Jim Ellison guided his partner home. 

* * *

"Feeling better, Chief?" Jim sat at the table finishing up the papers on the Peterson case file. Blair shuffled down the hallway, curly wisps around his head, a bathrobe hanging open. He put his hand to his mouth to cover the yawn. 

"Yeah, man. A little. What time is it?" 

"After eleven. You hungry? I've got some soup on the stove." 

"Sure. I could eat." The young man settled at the table, his eyes more clear, but his face still seriously weary. "Jim, I'm sorry about wimping out like that. I don't know what happened." 

The detective turned up the burner while he got down a bowl and some crackers. "It's called crashing, Chief. A person goes on fumes long enough, something's got to give." 

"Well, I gave all right." Crossed palms on the table supported his forehead. A few minutes later, a meal before him, the young man actually picked up the spoon and ate without prompting. "Uhm, this is good. You make this?" 

"I can cook, Chief." 

"Yeah, jungle stuff and spaghetti. What is this?" 

"Barley vegetable. I had time, so I thought, why not." 

"Well, it's good." Slurping quietly, Blair made for a pleasant sight and took the edge off Jim's worry. The two men sat side by side in silence for a while longer, comfortable in the other's company. 

"Talked to Connor today. She asked about coming to her barbecue tomorrow. I told her I didn't know. What do you think? Want to go to a barbie, Chief?" He imitated the Australian accent badly. 

"I don't think so, Jim. Megan came by last week, but I'm not sure I can handle that kind of thing again so soon." 

"What kind of thing? A party?" 

"Jim, the last time we cooked out with the guys I got shot. Now, I know it's crazy, hell, what are the odds, right? It's just I don't want to embarrass myself by doing something stupid." 

"Something like what? You think you might have a flashback?" 

"I don't know. I'm just don't think I'm up to something like that yet." 

Nodding, Jim picked at an imaginary speck on the table. "Okay. No problem, Chief." After he sat there awhile longer watching Blair finish up the soup, he spoke quietly, "So, you want to talk about what happened at the session or work on that denial deal some more?" 

"Denial is a perfectly valid coping mechanism, Jim. I mean, let's face it. Between the two of us lately, we could pretty much corner the market." 

"Yeah, we could. So, back to my question, you want to talk or wait?" 

Sipping some tea, Blair leaned back in his chair, his face less tired than earlier in the day, but not completely refreshed. "I know I've been avoiding a lot, man. It's just that I've never been in this position before." 

"What position's that?" Jim's elbows rested on the table, supporting him as he moved closer. "Are you talking about being seriously wounded or our relationship?" 

"Both, I think. I have to admit I never expected to ever hurt so much for so long. I mean really hurt." 

"I know. You still feel it don't you? When you go to get up or sit down, I see you hesitate. If you move too fast, you catch your breath and hold your side. Even in your sleep, when you turn over, I hear you groan if you move a certain way." 

"Shit. I never realized I did all that." 

"That's because when it's happening, you're mostly busy trying to hide how much it hurts. You don't have to hide it from me, Chief." 

"I know." Blair put the cup down and scooted up to the table. 

"Then why do you do it?" 

"Probably the same reason you play off your own injuries when you get hurt. I don't want you to worry." 

"Doesn't work worth shit, you know." Jim reached over and took his partner's hand, pleased that Blair didn't pull away this time. 

"I know. Anyway, it's really not as bad as it used to be. I guess now I worry about us." He rubbed his thumb along the top of Jim's hand, sending a rush of heat up the well-muscled arm. 

"And why is that?" 

"Jim, you've said it yourself. My record sucks when it comes to relationships. Besides, what if this screws up our sentinel-guide connection?" 

"Why would it? I'd think it would bring us closer." 

Rounded eyes met concerned icy blue. "Not if this doesn't work out." 

Jim raised Blair's hand and kissed it. "You know what I find fascinating, Chief." 

Puzzled, Blair frowned. "What?" 

"All this time I thought I'd be the one full of doubt, that you'd be trying to persuade me that this is going to turn out okay. I mean, I knew you were insecure about some things, but it really never occurred to me, you'd be the dark cloud and I'd be the one so positive about this." 

"How positive?" 

"Blair, I'm as positive about this as I am about anything I've ever known. I know this is right. Why can't you believe that?" 

"I don't mean to be negative, Jim. It's just I saw my mom go through this thing so many times. She'd find somebody and really think it was for real and bam, we were gone. That aside, I've just fucked up so many times in the past." 

"You're not your mom and that's not going to happen." Jim traced his fingers along Blair's jaw as he still held his hand. "This is right for us. I know it. Now, I'm sorry that it scares you, but I'm willing to wait for as long as it takes. You got that, Chief?" 

Nodding, his cheek resting against the caress of Jim's palm, Blair whispered. "Got it, Jim." 

"Good. Now, finish your soup and then I want you to get some more rest." 

"I just got up." 

"Yeah, and you look a lot better, but you're still tired. I can tell because your eyes cross when you're exhausted." Putting his finger tip on his friend's nose, he chuckled when blue eyes got confused. "See? I told you. Now, go on. Eat." 

As the older man stood and went to the sink, Blair asked, "Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I was wondering if I could sleep in your bed tonight." 

Jim stopped, all movement frozen. "What?" 

"You're a sentinel. You heard me." He lifted his head, his dark blue eyes still weak, but aimed directly at his best friend. 

"Blair, I'd love you to sleep in my bed, you know that, but I thought we decided that we'd wait until you were ready." 

"I just want to sleep, Jim. I'm not ready for anything else, but I thought I'd like to try it if it's okay." 

"More than okay." 

A shy smile dressed the younger man's face. "I'm just going to sleep, Jim." 

Grinning back, Jim laughed while he served the rest of the soup into the bowl. "Well, you can sleep while I dream. Sounds like progress to me, Chief." 

* * *

Bright sun poked its way into the bedroom as Jim lay curled around his partner's bare back. Still early he glanced at the clock and realized he'd have to get up soon. Summer holidays often made for busy police work. He sighed in regret, taking in the sweet smell of sweat that lingered on the back of Blair's neck. The whole night he'd cradled there, safe and calm. For the first time since the shooting, nightmares never disturbed either man's sleep. 

Lying there together, Jim rested his head against Blair's shoulder and listened to the deep and even breathing. A lullaby couldn't have been more peaceful, or strangely arousing. He found that his early morning hard on arrived in full force. Shifting his hips back carefully, he avoided contact. No way did he want Blair to feel any pressure or discomfort from joining him in bed. The first move would come from his best friend when he was truly ready. 

A sudden change in rhythm and slight moan alerted him to Blair's waking. After a few moments blue eyes blinked several times before finally staying open. "Hey, Chief. Good morning." 

"Morning?" 

"Yeah. You made it through the whole night." 

His voice still sleepy, Blair turned and rolled closer to Jim's chest. "Well, neither of us made it, Jim, but we did sleep." Running a teasing finger over the left nipple and then the right, the younger man smiled at the hitch in Jim's breath. "Like that?" 

"No, of course not. What's to like? A beautiful man in my bed rubbing his gorgeous greedy hands all over my body. Next thing you know he'll want to use his tongue or something equally disgusting." 

Leaning in, Blair lazily licked down the middle of Jim's chest and then moved to suck at the hard dark nubs. Jim ran a hand through silky curls as his partner continued to take great care to give equal opportunity to sensitive areas. After a few minutes of attention, the young guide looked up, his voice husky. "Sounds like you've got such a hard life, man." He reached down and slipped his hand past the elastic band of the boxers to find the hard cock, erect and leaking. Jim surged forward at the touch. 

"Oh, god, Chief. What are you doing?" 

"You mean you don't know? Maybe I'm doing it wrong." A nervous laugh came with the words. 

Despite being more turned on than ever, Jim stared into fearful eyes and spoke quietly. "No, Chief, you're doing it just right. It's just I know you've never done this. I just want you to be sure." 

"I am sure. I'm sure I love you and I want to try this." Stroking the twitching cock in his hand, he whispered. "It feels so hot and so right." 

"Hot is right." 

"I think I said that." He chuckled against Jim's chest. The vibrations and heated breath against the older man's skin brought on a shudder. "Man, you are so turned on. I like that, Jim." 

"Me, too. But, Blair, what about you? What do you want me to do? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." 

Nodding, Blair spoke softly as he wrapped Jim's cock in his palm, stroking with a smooth grip, urging him to thrust into his fist. "Details, man. Just feeling you like this is a turn on, but I'm not ready for anything else yet. Just get hot for me. Just come for me, Jim." His voice like velvet touched sentinel ears, guiding him to slow circles of pressure building like perfect torture in his groin. Thigh muscles tensed to painful pleasure while his whole belly grew tight with straining muscles. Every whisper of breath became a roar, each heart beat a pounding whip to move him forward. Each hushed Jim from his guide's beautiful mouth bathed him in sweat and slicked his chest with desire. Every push brought fire, every pull bursting flame. Friction conjured bright flashes of shrinking skin around expansion of sensation too intense to contain. Zoned to the center of Blair's fist, nothing else existed but his magnetic touch. Implosion before collapse, Jim suddenly jerked upward, back arched into a paralysis in deep space, no air, pure spikes of nuclear blast shredding all worldly connection right down the middle of his all consuming cock. 

Lifetimes later, thighs shaking, hips full of tremors, Jim collapsed back against the sheets. His arms dragged his lover with him, melded with his chest. Two heated full lips pressed against his, sucking his tongue up and then releasing it. "I love you, Jim." 

"God, yes. I love you, too. That was fantastic." Jim lay there luxuriating in the full press of Blair's body stretched out on top of his own, the young man's head resting just under his chin. 

Blair reached out and drew the top sheet over their bodies and then snuggled there, his own legs between Jim's. Bringing his hand to Jim's face, he stroked it. Smelling himself on those fingers brought another surge of arousal between his legs. "You're wonderful, Chief. Thank you." 

"No problem. I liked it." 

"You bet." His brain clearing, the smile left his face. "Blair?" 

"What?" The drowsy voice moved air against sweaty skin. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"You didn't come." 

Blair did a mini-push up off the larger man's chest and stared down into concerned eyes. "Listen, Jim, I'm okay. I wanted it like this the first time." 

Confused, Jim raised his hand, gently rubbing the side of his lover's face. "But why?" 

Blair shifted sideways and dropped to Jim's left side, away from the wet spot, holding him close to his body. His voice steady, he spoke softly. "I loved making you lose control like that with just a touch, man. What a cool kick. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you trust me like that? You're absolutely gorgeous. I wanted to see that without my head too clouded to think." 

"Sex isn't about thinking, Chief. It's about feeling." 

"I know that, but it's also about loving. I love you, Jim and I wanted to see what that meant to you. I witnessed a beautiful thing here, man. Love and trust and you. Great scenery, too, let me tell you." He laughed as Jim drew him nearer. "Anyway, does that make any sense?" 

"Yeah, I think so. You're saying that I'm not the control freak in the relationship anymore." 

"Does that bother you?" A hand rubbed against Jim's belly and up and down his chest. 

"I trust you, Chief. When you're ready, you can trust me. I'd never hurt you." 

"I know that." 

"Okay. So, Chief, when you're ready, how will I know?" 

"Oh, man, you'll know, I guarantee." 

Just as he started to playfully ask for specifics, the phone rang. "Shit." 

"It's awfully early, Jim. It might be Simon." 

Kissing the top of brown curls, the older man growled. "Probably. I'll be right back." Getting out of bed quickly and with a newfound bounce, he dashed downstairs. He jerked up the phone and snapped, "Ellison." 

"Jim, we've got a problem." 

"Simon, what's wrong?" 

"Cindy Geary's dead." 

Shit. Fireworks in Cascade certainly started early. 

* * *

"Well, this is some kind of mess, Jim." Simon stood outside the Geary house, hands on his hips, smoking on his cigar hard and heavy. All around the perimeter stood officers, TV cameras, and gawkers. People clamored like squawking vultures. 

"At least the kids are okay." 

"Yeah, thank god for that. Cindy's mom said that she'd had the kids for the weekend since yesterday. Makes you wonder." Simon stepped closer to the rail where Jim already stood leaning, arms crossed around his chest. 

"Makes you wonder what? That she knew this was coming?" 

"Yeah, maybe. I mean, maybe she knew he'd started drinking again and go off." 

Shaking his head, Jim spoke, totally baffled. "Then why didn't she just leave him completely? Why send the kids off and stay here? I never have understood this battered woman thing." 

"Jim, I thought I sent you to that seminar last year." 

"You did, and I've read all the books and listened to the lectures, but I still don't understand why someone would choose to stay with someone who beat her. Did she really think she could save him, maybe rescue him from whatever shit made him do this?" 

"I don't know, Jim, and she sure as hell can't tell us. Not anymore." 

"It'd be the same sad story even if she could, sir. Anyway, it doesn't much matter, does it?" 

"Guess not." Simon and Jim stopped talking as officers rolled out the second body bag. 

"You know, sir, at least Geary had the decency to shoot himself, too." 

"Jim? I can't believe you said that." 

"Why not? You expect me to have sympathy for a man who calls himself a cop and then goes home, gets drunk and then beats and kills his wife? Not hardly. Eating his gun seems like justice to me, something our courts don't seem to care much about lately." 

Simon put a hand on Jim's arm, the muscles tensed way up in the shoulders, all the way through his neck, the tightness holding his scalp hard against the skull. "Jim, promise me you don't speak to the press about this, okay?" 

"Not PC enough for you, Captain?" 

"Not even close. Besides we both know you're feeling this way for other reasons." 

"Really?" Jim's jaw twitched at the memory of his lover's expression when he'd told him about the death of his friend. Blair's face crumpled all over in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut against the painful image. 

"Really. How did Blair take it when you told him?" 

"How do you think he took it? He liked Cindy. You know how he is, Simon. He's such a sucker for sob stories." 

"That's not really fair, Jim. He thinks he can save people, but right now he's probably feeling pretty guilty." 

"Why the hell should he feel guilty?" 

"I didn't say he should, Jim. I just said he probably is. Look, we both know how the kid works. He's probably thinking he could've done more, but, of course, that's not true. Nobody can fight or solve someone else's problems, whatever they are." 

"I'm getting really tired of hearing that." 

"Then maybe you ought to start paying attention. You can be there to help, to listen and do what you can, Jim, but you can't do it for him, just like he couldn't do it for Cindy. Right now, from what you tell me, I'd say, Blair's having to fight off his own army of personal demons." 

"Maybe." Jim scanned the crowd of reporters barely contained out on the sidewalk. "You going to make a statement about this?" 

"Yeah. Perks of being a captain. Look, go home, Jim. We've done all we can here. This tragedy's over." 

"Not for the kids it's not." 

Shaking his head sadly, Simon straightened up his jacket and put out his cigar. "No, not for the kids. For them it's just beginning. Damn. I hate this shit." 

Pushing the glasses up and balancing them on his nose, the older man put a hand on his detective's shoulder. "Take the rest of the weekend, Jim. It's the Fourth of July. Go home. Try to relax." 

"Yeah, some holiday." Uncrossing his arms and standing beside his captain, he stared as they closed the door on the wagon containing the two bodies. He whispered to himself, his gut clenched tight like a drowning man's hand at a riverbank. "God, what a waste." 

* * *

"Hey, Chief. You in here?" Jim entered the apartment, worry running like wild children in his head. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard his favorite heart beat and voice. 

"I'm up here, man." 

Walking up the stairs, Jim stretched out his senses. Blair's vitals sounded slow and even. "I've been calling, Chief. Why is the phone off the hook and the cell phone turned off?" He stopped at the top of the stairs when he saw his lover stretched out on his bed, his hands behind his head, eyes closed. "You okay?" 

"Yeah. Sorry about the phone, but reporters kept calling wanting a statement. I just didn't want to talk to some stranger, you know?" 

"Yeah, I know." Normally Jim dropped his gun and keys off downstairs, but he'd been in a hurry. Now, he put them on the dresser and then sat down next to Blair. Reaching out a hand, he rubbed his chest. "I'm really sorry about Cindy. I know you cared." 

"I did." Turning over to his side, the younger man opened his eyes and held on to Jim's arm, running his own hand up the sleeve. "Missed you, man. Was it bad out there?" 

"Bad enough. Sorry about the reporters. Their assholes, you know." 

"They're just doing their jobs. I just don't like being the job description on this one." 

"Me, either, babe." Jim leaned over and kissed his guide on the forehead. Arms wrapped around his neck and drew him closer as Blair shifted and found his lips. Pressing together for only a few moments, the fire still raced through his blood as that mouth steamed his breath. 

"Jim, you got time to just lie down and hold me for a little while?" 

"I've got a life time, Chief." Jim stretched out beside his guide and then pulled him closer. Spooned there together, he whiffed the extra salty scent. "You've been crying." 

"A little." The soft voice didn't sound weak, just sad. "This whole thing with Cindy and the kids just sucks. I feel really bad for Cathy and little Tommy, but I've met Cindy's mom Ann and she's okay. She'll do what she can for the kids." 

"That's good." 

"Yeah. Anyway, I've been lying here just thinking." 

"Just thinking, huh? You think that's safe?" 

Nudging his elbow back, Jim oofed, covering his ribs. "I'm serious here, Jim. Now listen." 

"Okay. What were you thinking, Chief?" Jim nuzzled in closer to the back of his best friend, intent and attentive. He loved the way Blair's body against his made for a perfect fit. 

"Well, first I realized that sleeping sure helps me think better." 

"You wake up pretty good, too, Chief." 

"God, I'm in love with such a slut." 

"I could've told you that." 

"I already suspected." Snuggling backwards, Blair patted the clasped hands holding him around his middle. Then he reached back to his shoulder and stroked the bearded cheek resting there. The touch of his lover's hand thrilled him. "Listen up and you can give me lessons later." 

"Okay. Keep talking, Chief." He kissed the side of his neck lightly with a teasing nip. 

"Stop that and pay attention. Anyway, I've just been thinking that all these fears are holding me prisoner in my own head, man, and I don't like that." 

"Me, either. So, what've you decided to do about it?" 

"Well, I thought the first thing is just to try to relax. I mean, despite the news about Cindy, this morning was really special. I can't explain how free that made me feel to be with you like that." 

"It was special, Blair." Jim rested his face in a nest of curls, sniffing at the wonderfully enchanting scent wisping up, curling around his senses like fog at autumn sunset. His guide's palm cupped his face again, sending his mind into a twirl. 

"Jim, are you with me here?" Blair turned to lie front to front, taking Jim's face in both hands. "Jim, don't zone on me, man." 

"I'm sorry, Chief. I just like being with you like this." 

Moving close, each embracing the other, they lay there quiet. In the distance firecrackers popped and broke through the relative quiet of the city, the holiday celebration just beginning. "Jim? 

"Yeah?" 

"This is going to sound selfish." 

"What?" 

"Do you think Megan would mind too much if we skipped her party?" 

"Not really. I don't think she expected us anyway. Why? What do you want to do instead?" 

Shyly working a the button at the top of Jim's shirt, Blair slipped the neck open wider. "I thought we could just stay here to celebrate our own kind of liberty." 

Taking the wandering hand in his, Jim brought it to his lips, kissing it slowly several times along the life line. The pulse of his lover's blood throbbed at his lips and with a lick of his tongue he added the rush of salty heat. "Sounds like a good way to spend a holiday, Chief." 

The deep laugh came out husky as Blair leaned his head back, exposing his throat. He brought his knee up and rubbed it up and down between Jim's legs, focusing on the growing arousal pushing the limits of denim. 

Biting gently into the whiskered skin, Jim sucked and lapped along the neck. Nibbling on Blair's ear, he tugged at the double loops and smiled at the rush of heart beats beneath his own hand massaging his guide's chest. A series of moans prompted him to press his body closer, to run his hand down between Blair's legs. The younger man shoved his hips forward, the bulge urgent, burning against Jim's skin. Forcing himself to breathe deeply, Jim pulled back and whispered, "Are you sure?" 

Thrusting to accent the words, Blair's breathy voice answered without hesitation. "Yes." 

"I'd never hurt you, Chief. If I do anything you don't like, just tell me." 

"I know that, Jim. I love you." 

"And trust me?" 

"Yeah, I do." Another kiss sealed the space between them. Pulling back, Jim straightened up, balanced on the bed on his knees. Stripping off his top, he then unzipped and peeled away his jeans and boxers, tossing them beside the bed. Moving to straddle Blair's thighs, he bent to unbutton and take off the younger man's shirt. The T-shirt beneath rolled off easily, but as it did, Jim stopped. His right hand tenderly reached out and touched the puckered wound, still pink and ugly, scarring his guide's lower right side. 

Seeing the quick change, Blair took Jim's hand as he traced the edges of the damaged flesh. Pale blue eyes misted over and reflected brighter as he stared, drawn to the horror of the barely healed mark. "Jesus, Chief. Even now, I see it and can't believe it." 

"I know, Jim. Don't do this. I survived." 

"But I almost lost you." Suddenly filled with a newly inspired passion, Jim placed hands on either side of Blair's head and balanced himself above his upper body. Dipping down, he captured the mouth that he wanted to claim forever. A charged tongue probed forward, wrestling all resistance, sucking Blair's back into his own mouth, the heat slicking the passage between already swollen lips. He swallowed the murmur of soft moans and ground his groin forward to solicit more. Beneath him legs spread wider, making room for better movement. Using one hand, he unzipped his lover's jeans and pulled back only long enough to take them off along with the boxers. 

An erect cock sprang up from a bush of dark curls, the strong scent of musk spraying the air from the fountain of pearly liquid leaking freely from the tip. Dark purple and burning, he stroked it to the rhythm of fast panting. Sitting back on his haunches, he shifted downward, one hand massaging Blair's scrotum, the other, his twitching cock. The younger man's knees came up, thighs open as nimble fingers gently rolled the balls and then wrapped around the base. The other hand slicked a finger with pre-cum and then teased the pink opening peaking out from the spread asscheeks. Dipping forward, carefully using lips, teeth, and tongue in tandem, Jim engulfed the throbbing cock while probing Blair's too tight muscle. Thrusting with tenderness, the finger loosened resistance slowly while groans grew louder, vibrating from the chest all along the body. Hips pumped in time with Jim's finger while Blair's hands twisted in a frenzy, mangling the sheets. 

The sharp tang of Blair, sleek as satin, smoothed creamy inside against Jim's expert tongue. Trapping the cock between strong muscle and palate, he made counter movements in and out to his own hand. Blair's breathing grew more ragged as Jim's own tightening groin grew heavy. His own ass twitched and spread tremors up his spine as his lover's chants of his name grew louder. One finger burning inside Blair, the other hand locked around his own cock, his mouth suctioning bitter pulsing fire made lightning. Blair bucked hard upward and stayed there, spasms rocking his body, liquid flames shooting into Jim's throat. His own yellow flashes screamed behind eyelids with an explosive release, spilling jets of passion across the bed beneath him. Moments later, he removed his finger and lifted his head away from the damp musk of his guide and then stretched out beside him. He drew Blair to his body and dragged the blanket over them. 

His lover's racing heartbeat scared him, but lying there quiet, embraced, it finally slowed, the breathing becoming more even. Several minutes later, Blair curled into the arms even tighter, his hair damp and more fragrant. He nuzzled his forehead against Jim sweaty chest as he finally spoke. "Cool, Jim." 

"Cool?" 

"Yeah, man, very cool. I think I could grow to like this." 

"Think so?" 

Kissing Jim's left nipple, nipping slightly with the very edge of his teeth, he moaned once again before settling back. "Oh, yeah." His face drifted into dreamy softness before he added, "This is the way I want it to be between us, Jim. I want us to be free and honest." 

"I want that, too, Chief. We're both working hard to do that." 

Nodding, Blair shifted and spooned backwards, nudging his bare rear into Jim's lap. "I'm not saying I'm totally over all these fears I have, you know." 

"I know." 

"But I'm getting better. I really think we've got a chance here, Jim." 

Hugging him in tighter, Jim whispered into his ear. "It's a sure thing, Chief." 

"I'm beginning to believe that." 

"Believe it." 

In the distance the high-pitched sound of a rocket launching interrupted. "Hear that, Jim? Maybe later we could go see the fireworks." 

Kissing the neck of the man he loved with heartfelt celebration, Jim laughed. "Chief, anymore fireworks and this sentinel couldn't last." 

"Oh, man, that is like so weak." 

Rolling Blair back over on his back, Jim rounded up over him, straddling his hips. Meeting eyes glowed with anticipation. "Weak? Chief, the light show is just beginning." 

He ran a loving hand up and down Jim's arm and then across his chest. "Jim, I never thought I could ever love somebody so much, man." 

"I know, Blair. Love is too weak a word for what I feel. I need to show you." 

Smiling slyly, raising a hand to cup the back of his lover's head, Blair whispered, "God, I'm in love with a man of action." 

Growling, rubbing bearded cheek against cheek, Jim spoke in a hush. "And you love it, right, Chief?" 

"Oh, yeah, man, definitely." 

Lowering himself slowly, the tension in his arms coiling up like springs, Jim Ellison kissed his life, his liberty, and his pursuit of happiness. Independence rested in the need to be with the man of his dreams. The guide who owned his soul gave him true freedom. 

The End 


End file.
